When I was supposed to make decision which high school to attend, I didn’t know what to do. As much as I wanted to attend music high school my father wanted me to go to gymnasium. Because I wanted to please my parents, I attended both schools at the same time, going in the morning to gymnasium and in the afternoon on my violin classes.
After two years, I just couldn’t take it anymore and I stood in front of my parents and exclaimed: “Either I stop going to gymnasium, or I will just leave music school.”In the end they agreed and I spent 3rd and 4th year in music school. There I had the best teacher ever.
It was our classroom teacher. She was teaching us the rules of harmony and how to use them in life. She was young and caring, but in the same time strict and fair. We always loved her classes that consisted not only of teaching lessons, but also of solving problems. She always gave us homework, but we knew that was for our own good. If we didn’t do them, we couldn’t pass the final exam, not because she would fail us, but because we wouldn’t know how to do it.
Why is she the best teacher? Well, apart from above mentioned, she managed to teach all of us this very difficult subject. It is a fact that our student with lowest grade knew as much as the most brilliant ones. It was just the difference of explaining it and trying to stay cool in most difficult situation that determined our grade.
Also, she loved us as if we were her own children. Whenever we did something wrong, she would never yell. She would just look at us, with disappointment in her eyes, and we would immediately feel ashamed. That is why we were a fine and relatively calm generation.
There was one time, when we were in the 4th grade that she asked the third year to attend her support classes. No one showed up. We were at that time in school, practicing for upcoming exams and we heard her cry in her classroom. You see, that woman was traveling every time from another city, where she lived, to our school to teach us, and she missed her last bus to go home because of them. How did they have the courage not to show up? Next day, we went to the third grade classroom and we said to them: “If you know what is good for you,all of you will show up on next support class of harmony. Also all of you will, this moment, go to her and apologize for you behavior.”
We knew they will do that, because they were afraid. We never bullied them, instead we refused to help them with their homework whenever they did something to our classroom teacher. Believe it or not, this demand worked better than making them do something with force.
The irony was that, after us, the best generation that school had in its lifetime, came the worst one ever.